THE BATTLE IN THE FORECASTLE
Making as little disturbance as possible, Drew sank to his armpits in
the pellucid waters, and then began to swim. He believed the shark had
started briskly for some other point in the lagoon; but he knew the
eyes of the creature were sharp.
All about him, as the young man moved through the water, there were
millions of tiny organisms that would betray his presence, as they had
the shark's, at the first ripple. These minute infusorians would glow
with the pale gleam of phosphorescence if the water were ruffled.
Therefore, he had to swim carefully and slowly, when each second his
nerves cried out for rapid, panic-stricken action.
He came at last to the schooner's stern without mishap. He could see
her tall hull and taller spars above him. There was no light in the
after part of the vessel; nor was there even a riding light. The
mutineers whom Ditty had left aboard had evidently thrown off all
discipline.
Finding no line hanging from the rail aft, Drew swam around the
schooner to her bows. Here was the anchor chain, and up this he
clambered nimbly to the rail.
Cautiously he raised his head above the rail and looked about him.
There was a light in the forecastle, but most of the deck was in deep
shadow. Very slowly he pulled himself inboard and dropped down in the
bows. Then, on hands and knees and avoiding any spot of light, he
crept noiselessly toward the forecastle and looked in.
By the light of the lamp swinging in its gimbals, he could see five men
seated on the floor with their hands tied behind them. At a little
distance two other men were seated, both with revolvers thrust in their
belts.
The nearest of the guards was talking at the moment, and Drew easily
heard what was said.
"You're a bloomin' fool, I tell you, Trent," he was saying to one of
the prisoners. "Ditty has got the old man dead to rights. The
after-guard hain't got the ghost of a chance. You'd better pitch in an
take your luck along with the rest of us."
"You're a lot of bloody murderers," growled the one addressed, "and
you'll swing for this business yet."
"Not as much chance of our swingin' as there is of you gittin' what
Sanders got," retorted the other. "He's 'bout eat up by the sharks by
this time. An' when Ditty comes back with the loot; he ain't goin' to
let you live to peach on 'im. No, siree, he ain't. Dead men tell no
tales."
Drew waited no longer. He had no weapon with him, not even a knife.
But he counted on the advantage of surprise. He gathered himself
together, and, with the agility of a panther, leaped upon the shoulders
of the man seated beneath him. They went to the deck with a crash.
The fellow was stunned by the shock, and lay motionless; but Drew was
on his feet in a second.
The other mutineer leaped up, but when he saw the white and dripping
figure of the unexpected visitor he dropped the automatic and fell back
against the mess table, shaking and with his hands before his eyes.
"It's a ghost!" yelled Trent, no less frightened than the others, but
more voluble. "It's Sanders been an' boarded us!"
The prisoners, crowded together on the deck of the forecastle, glared
at the apparition of the naked man in horror. After all, the mutineer
had the most courage.
"Blast my eyes!" he suddenly shouted. "Sanders wasn't never so big as
him; 'nless he's growed since he was sent to the sharks."
He sprang forward to peer into Drew's face. The latter's fist shot out
and landed resoundingly on the fellow's jaw.
"Nor he don't hit like Sanders, by mighty!" yelled the fellow. "Nor
like no ghost. It's that blasted Drew--I knows 'im now."
"And you're going to know more about me directly," said Drew, between
his teeth, following the fellow up for a second blow.
But the mutineer had recovered himself, both in mind and body. He was
a big, beefy chap, weighing fifty pounds heavier than Drew, despite the
latter's bone and muscle. No man, no matter how well he can spar, can
afford to give away fifty pounds in a rough and tumble fight and expect
not to suffer for it.
The fellow put up a good defense, and Drew suddenly became aware that
he himself was at a terrible disadvantage. He was a naked man against
one clothed and booted. He could defend himself from the flail-like
blows of his antagonist and could get in some of his own swift hooks
and punches. But when he was at close quarters the fellow played a
deadly trick on him.
As Drew stepped in to deliver a short-armed jolt to the mutineer's
head, the latter took the punishment offered, but, with all his weight,
stamped on Drew's unprotected foot.
The groan that this forced from the young man's lips brought a
diabolical grin to the mutineer's face. Even the satisfaction of
changing that grin to a bloody smear, as he did the very next moment by
giving a fearful blow to the mouth, did not relieve Drew's pain.
He had to keep the fellow at arm's length, and that was not
advantageous to his own style of fighting. He could make a better
record in close-up work. But the mutineer wore heavy sea-boots, and
Drew already felt himself crippled. His own footwork was spoiled. He
limped as badly as had Tyke Grimshaw for a while.
There was not room for a fair field in the crowded forecastle, at best.
The big sailor was very wary about stepping near the five prisoners,
but he forced Drew, time and again, against the body of the prone and
unconscious man on the deck. Three times his naked antagonist all but
sprawled over this obstruction.
In fact, Drew was not getting much the best of it, although few of the
mutineer's blows landed. This fighting at arm's length never yet
brought a quick decision. And that was what Allen Drew was striving
for. For all he knew, Ditty might take it into his head to come off to
the schooner before bedtime. If he were caught in this plight, he
would be utterly undone.
This thought harried the young man's very soul. All he had risked in
swimming out to the schooner would go for nothing. Not only would his
object in coming fail of consummation, but if Ditty caught him, the
besieged party up on the side of the whale's hump would lose its best
shot.
Thus convinced of the necessity for haste, Drew suddenly rushed in. He
stifled a cry as the heavy boot crunched down on his foot once again.
This was no time for fair fighting. He seized his antagonist by the
collar of his shirt, jerked him forward, and at the same time planted a
right upper-cut on the point of the jaw.
The fellow crashed to the deck--down and out without a murmur. Drew,
panting and limping, leaving a trail of blood wherever he stepped,
secured some lengths of spun yarn and tied both mutineers hand and foot
before he gave any attention to the murmuring prisoners.
"Now, men," he said, turning to the five, "you know me. I'm Mr. Drew
and I'm no ghost."
"You don't hit like no ghost," grinned Trent. "I'm mighty glad you
come, Mr. Drew. It would have been all up with us when old Bug-eye
come back if you hadn't."
"You're fine fellows and all right to stand up for your captain,"
replied Drew; "and you'll find that you've not only been on the right
side, but on the winning side. However, we've got to hurry. Where's a
knife?"
"You'll find one in that fellow's belt," said Whitlock, pointing to one
of the mutineers.
Drew secured it and cut the ropes that bound the prisoners. They fell
to rubbing their arms and legs to get the blood to circulating.
"As soon as you can move about, get the dinghy ready," directed Drew.
"Stow in it all the provisions it will hold together with some casks of
water. And you'd better bring Wah Lee and the Jap along. I've got to
go to the captain's cabin, but I'll be back before you're ready.
Smart, now, for we don't know what minute Ditty may take a notion to
come aboard."
Drew hurried aft and into his own room where he quickly got into some
clothing and bandaged his crushed foot. Then he pushed into the
captain's stateroom. There was no light there, but he dropped on his
hands and knees and felt under the berth.
His hand touched the sharp corner of a box. He dragged it out and
hurried up the companionway where he could examine it by the light of a
lantern. He recognized at once the label of a well-known ammunition
company, and knew that these must be the cartridges of which the
captain had spoken. That box perhaps spelled salvation for the
treasure seekers.
With his heart throbbing with elation and tightly clutching the
precious box, Drew hastened to the rail where the men were preparing to
launch the boat. Wah Lee and Namco stood by, blinking with true
Oriental stolidity. They betrayed neither eagerness nor reluctance,
nor was there the slightest trace of curiosity. For them it was all in
the day's work.
The seamen heaped in all the provisions and water that the boat would
hold and still leave room for its occupants. Drew advised muffling the
oars, and with barely a sound the craft moved toward the shore.
Heavily laden at is was, the progress was slow. They kept cautiously
out of the zone of light cast by the mutineers' campfire, which now,
however, was dying out. Finally the craft grated on the sand.
Under Drew's whispered directions, the men shouldered the stores, and
the party commenced the toilsome march inland to the little fort.
It was fully midnight when they were challenged by the sentinels at the
edge of the wood.
"Ahoy, there!" called Drew, hailing the fort.
"Ahoy, yourself!" came back the answer. "Is that you, Allen?"
"Yes. And some friends with me."
"Friends?" There was surprise in the tone. "Who are they?"
"I'll let you see for yourself."
The besieged, whose sleep had been fitful, had all been aroused by the
colloquy, and they crowded to the front of the barricade. The moon had
now risen, and their faces could be clearly discerned. Ruth lovelier
every time he saw her, Allen thought, stood beside her father.
"Why, it's Whitlock!" cried Captain Hamilton jubilantly. "And
Gunther--and Trent--and Ashley--and _Barnes_!" he went on in
ever-increasing wonderment and excitement, as he recognized the
weather-beaten faces. "And blest if here isn't that old heathen, Wah
Lee! And the Jap! Glory hallelujah!"
There was a moment of wild exclamations and handshakings.
"Bully lads!" cried the master of the _Bertha Hamilton_, with deep
emotion. "So you broke away and came to help your captain, did you?
Good lads."
"We didn't exactly break away, Cap'n," said Gunther. "Though God knows
we wanted to bad enough. But it's Mr. Drew you want to thank for our
bein' here. He done it all."
"I knowed it! I knowed it!" cried Tyke. "I felt it in my bones when I
first saw 'em! Glory be!"
"He did it all?" inquired the captain. "What do you mean? Tell us,
Allen."
"Oh, there isn't much to tell," replied Drew. "I was lucky enough to
reach the schooner and I found the men there with their hands tied. I
cut the ropes and brought them along."
"You reached the schooner!" the captain repeated. "How?"
"Did you git the boat from under the eyes of them fellers?" asked Tyke.
"No. I swam over."
"Swam!" ejaculated the captain.
Ruth gave a little shriek and put her hand to her heart.
"Oh!" she cried. "The sharks!"
"Haven't I always told you that boy was a wonder?" chuckled Tyke.
But here Whitlock touched his cap.
"Beggin' your pardon, Cap'n," he said apologetically, "but if Mr. Drew
was as slow with his fists as he is with tellin' his story, meanin' no
disrespec', me an' my mates wouldn't be here."
"Go ahead, Whitlock," said the captain. "It is like pulling teeth to
get anything from Mr. Drew."
Whitlock told the story, which lost nothing in the telling.
There was a pause, tense with emotion, and all eyes were turned on
Drew. Tyke's hand clapped him on the shoulder, but the old man did not
trust himself to speak. Ruth's eyes were wet, but the tears could not
obscure a look that made the young man's heart thump wildly.
"Allen," said the captain, taking his hand, "it was the pluckiest thing
I ever heard of. If we get out of this place alive, we shall owe it
all to you."
"You make too much of it," disclaimed Drew, red and confused. "But
hadn't we better stow away these things the men have brought along?
Here's the box of cartridges I found under your berth."
The captain fairly shouted.
"That puts the cap sheaf on!" he exulted. "Now Ditty and his gang are
done for. They can't come too soon."